Undivided
by throughthelookinglass
Summary: Clary Fray gets accepted into Juilliard-a prestigious performing acts academy where the residents hold a lot of secrets - secrets that can never get out.  Slightly OOC, all human. Rated T in case I slip up
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Well, this is my very first fanfiction ^-^ I wrote this after watching Dream High (Korean drama, I recommend it!) and I'm writing about the MI characters for the FIRST TIME EVER! So the characters may be a little OOC, but please feel free to tell me if there's something SERIOUSLY wrong with the way they're acting :)**

**Please read, and review if ya like ;D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just this story. Everything else belongs to Cassandra Clare, author of the AMAZING Mortal Instruments series.  
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><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

_Dear Miss Clarissa Fray,_

_I am delighted to inform you that you have been offered a place at The Juilliard School of Performing Arts._

_I offer you my personal congratulations on your achievement, as you were chosen out of 500 candidates who applied this year._

_A certificate of admission is enclosed, along with a list of school rules you must obey, should you choose to accept this placement. If you would like to attend Juilliard, please complete the form below and hand it in at our reception by next Friday._

_Should you choose to defer, please let us know what your other arrangements may be, and how we can help you, as you have been noted as an aspiring pupil with plenty of potential that we would like to help you with, regardless of whether you choose to defer or accept._

_And finally, we will be holding a gathering for the students which will provide an opportunity to socialise and find out more about what you can look forward to at our school. This will take place at the McClelland Drama Theater from 10am to 2pm, where students will be given a short tour and also be shown to their suites. A short performance from our acting group will also be taking place._

_You will be given a list of what items you may bring with you to Juilliard at the gathering, as well as your living arrangements for this year. Your roommate will also be chosen. (Further details will be given at the Tour.)_

_Again, congratulations! And I hope you will consider this opportunity, and I look forward to hearing from you._

_Sincerely,_

_Hodge Starkweather_

_Headmaster of Juilliard School of Performing Arts._

Clary folded the letter carefully back into the envelope, and clutched it to her chest. Finally, she had been accepted! She had been beginning to wonder whether dropping out of high school to 'pursue her dreams' (as her mother put it) was such a good idea.. But Juilliard! What an achievement. To be labeled as an 'aspiring pupil with plenty of potential' from Hodge Starkweather, the headmaster of THE Juilliard School was a definite boost of self-esteem, which she had desperately needed after opening all the rejection letters from Tisch, Fiorello H. LaGuardia, and the Kaufman Center.

She was singing with glee inside, but on the outside, to avoid being charged with disorderly conduct, she calmly shut the door to her post box, and took the elevator to the 3rd floor. She would have to call her mother and tell her the good news later.

Stepping out of the elevator, she walked past the doors until she reached number 70. Fumbling her key out of her pocket, she slipped it in the lock, turned it and stepped inside. Her mom's shoes were replaced with a pair of fluffy slippers, a sign that she was out. Not surprised, Clary closed the door and walked to the kitchen, intending to grab a bite to eat before heading out to meet Simon, her best friend. Just as a piece of bread popped out of the toaster, her doorbell rang out. Grabbing her toast, she took a bit as she walked to the door, opening it. To be met with a shock. Simon, clad in a leather jacket and sunglasses, was leaning against the wall, his side facing her.

Turning his head, he slipped his sunglasses down to half-reveal his eyes. (He was wearing glasses.. under his sunglasses?) He gave a 'Sup' nod and grinned.

The bite of toast came flying out of Clary's mouth, landing at Simon's feet as she burst out laughing, and choked out:

"What the hell!"

A little while later, after her mom came home and Simon left, she decided to tell her mother the good news about her acceptance into Juilliard.

She practically skipped to her mother's room, eager to tell someone other than Simon, because being able to talk about it to someone made it seem less like a dream that she would eventually have to wake up from, and she _really_ didn't want this dream to end.

A few moments later, Luke Garroway looked up from his newspaper to a door opening and closing-actually it was more like a very angry SLAM-as Clary stormed out of it, so fast Luke didn't even have time to blink-let alone get up from his very comfortable position on the armchair in the living room. He furrowed his brows, before shrugging and returning to the very intriguing article about how to lengthen the lives of plants.

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><p>First chapter! Woo! It's really short, but now I know not to complain when fanfictioners don't update often. IT TAKES FOREVER TO WRITE ONE FRICKING CHAPTER! (probably cos im such a noob.. with permanent writers block )<p>

But uh.. The story might not make a lot of sense right now.. But I promise you'll see the point of it later Maybe.. Depends on whether you can keep up with the way I think ^^

Anyway, I did a lot of research on Juilliard to make this story more believable, and because I wanted to know more about it ^^ I so wanna go there D:

_(Inner Voice)_: But everyone knows that's never gonna happen. IDIOT.

:'( I'm depressed now. And talking to myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments, they belong to Cassandra Clare. :(

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 2<span>**

2 Days Later~

Waking up on Simon's couch in the morning was probably not the best way to start a new job, especially since he owned a cat. A cat who insisted on being Clary's personal alarm clock, waking her two hours earlier and giving her more than enough time to get ready. Losing sleep always made her cranky in the mornings, and now the cat had to be punished.

A while later Clary was cradling her scratched hand against her chest, her eyes shooting daggers at the cat, who trotted away, seemingly satisfied with itself. Besides, it was usually greeted with nastier things like threats involving dog food and leads, and being attacked with flying objects. It could handle a whack from a baseball bat.

Clary finally stood up and looked around. She hadn't spent the night at Simon's since she was 12, but it wasn't as if anything had changed. There were the same old burgundy scatter cushions she had helped to pick out, the same off-yellow floor lamp, the same brick fireplace with the rusty old gate that was installed after Simon had tried to burn all the knitted sweaters from his grandmother..

She smiled as she thought back to when they were 11, sitting in front of the flickering fireplace with Simon's mother bringing them hot chocolate to warm their frozen hands. They had been outside that night, making snowangels, and snowgirls instead of snowmen. It was one of the happiest moments Clary could remember ever having, and she could picture it so clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. But she hadn't seen Simon's parents after his dad walked out on them 5 years ago, which left his mother in depression.

It kinda taught Clary that perhaps love never lasts, and she should see it as a waste of time from then on, having watched Simon and his family since she was little and always believing that they would be happy forever. And look how well that turned out.

So reading fairytales with happily-ever-afters just didn't seem so realistic anymore to Clary, and so she always refused to read them. Having no real father in her life didn't help her new beliefs, either, especially as she was told he walked out on her mother when she was pregnant with Clary. (Luke, who was always around, didn't really count as a father figure. Because he was never there long enough.)

Clary walked slowly to the kitchen, taking her time to admire the small, but noticable changes in the Lewis's home. Simon's father had been removed from all the walls, and mostly just Simon's old yearbook photos remained. Clary frequented a few of the ones from when they were 11,but after that, it was just Simon and his mother. Exploring the cupboards, Clary hunted for something-anything-to eat. But all the Lewis's seemed to have were cereal, and Pop Tarts. Sighing, she took the Fruit Loops out of the cupboard and opened the fridge door for some milk.. which they didn't have. Frowning, Clary closed the fridge and settled on top of one of the stools surrounding the Lewis' kitchen island. She made a mental note to come around more often, and take over grocery duties, which Simon's mother seemed to have abandoned. It was probably the reason why all Simon seemed to eat now was takeout.

Just as Clary had pulled out a fistful of cereal, Simon appeared, looking dishelved but wide-eyed.

"Clary! I totally forgot you were staying. Are you alright? Do you need anything?" He looked panicked, and nervous-as if Clary was starving away and not holding a box of Fruit Loops in one hand and about to stuff her face with the other.

"I'm fine, Simon. Look, I found cereal." She held up the box."Although I do need some coffee. And, you're out of milk. Among other stuff." She pointed over her shoulder at the fridge. He looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Mom hasn't been grocery shopping.. again. I guess I'll go now. Wanna come?"

He headed towards the door. "Simon.. Most people are _properly_ dressed before they go to the store." He frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Clary looked down at his Goku t-shirt and flannel pants. He followed her gaze. "Oh. Right, hang on a second!" He dashed towards the hallway, and Clary smiled. So dorky. Like always. The best thing that came out of the Lewis's divorce? Simon didn't change. He was always just.. happy, making everyone laugh, especially Clary.

Dusting her lap of any crumbs, she stood up and placed the cereal back in the cupboard, trying to remember what Simon and his mother were missing. She had a small amount of cash on her, just enough to buy groceries to last them a few days, a week at the most. Then she thought about Juilliard.. Clary frowned. How much money would she need for Juilliard? Just one more day until she started. She was only planning to take enough for snacks and books, if she needed them. She had been told the meals were to be provided, but she liked to snack. A lot. She did a quick calculation in her head, and decided that she should probably take on another job. Or she could ask her mother, or Luke. But she hated taking handouts.. Two jobs it is.

She walked back to the sofa and dug around her overnight bag for clothes to wear. She pulled out a tank top and skinny jeans. Perfect for Spring weather, along with a light beige jacket. She looked in the dusty floor length mirror in the corner. She didn't look great, but at least she didn't look like she had just spent the past few days on a friend's dusty and lumpy couch. She walked back to the kitchen and after placing her bowl neatly on top of a stack of dirty dishes (taking another mental note to clean them when she had a chance to) Simon came bounding down the stairs, wearing a Superman t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans.

Clary gave a nod of approval. "Not too shabby." He grinned and said: "Come on. I think I'll take you up on that coffee."

She attempted to raise an eyebrow, but failed. "I don't recall ever offering." She said, following him to the door.

"Yeah, but you will anyway. Cos you love me." He turned around and gave an innocent smile. Clary rolled her eyes and walked past him. "Alright then. You need a LOT of new groceries by the way."

Simon grinned. "I know. I'm glad you're helping, I don't know which washing powders to get. Or what cat food that doesn't bring him* out in rashes."

Clary smiled. "I don't know either. But we can check the cans." She suggested. Simon nodded, smiling back gratefully. Just as they were walking to the store, Clary heard a electronic beep. She patted her pockets to check it wasn't her, even though she knew it wouldn't be. Her cell was always on silent now, to avoid the calls she got from her mother and Luke.

Simon pulled his cell from his pocket, smiled, then tapped quickly back. This lasted for a couple of minutes at the least until they reached the store. "Hey, you think you can manage this grocery stuff by yourself? I'll pay for your coffee, if you want. I have to meet somone." He smiled, not even looking up from the screen.

"It's fine, I can afford a cup of coffee. Go, have fun. Leave all the chores to me." She said, smiling back.

He looked up and grinned, pecking Clary on the cheek before turning and practically running off. Most likely to Eric's, his best friend and fellow bandmate, but Clary doubted Simon would ever smile that much at Eric's texts, which were always mispelt in the most hideous ways, an attempt at being 'cyper-wise' whatever the hell that meant.

Clary watched Simon disappear around the corner before entering the store. It was air-conditioned in there, making her shiver. She headed to the dairy aisle first, grabbing the largest pint of milk before moving to the baked products. A loaf of bread for sandwiches and toast, Simon's favourite brand of chocolate croissants.. More cereal, fruit,vegetables. After grabbing a pack of water bottles, she finally went to checkout. 35 dollars and 29 cents. Not too bad. She still had money left over in her bank account, and the money from her new job would be more than enough.

After putting away the groceries at Simon's, Clary changed into a fresh shirt before heading over to the cafe where her new job would be.

The bell above the door tinkled as Clary stepped through it. She looked up and her eyes widened. It was an adorable little cafe, complete with friendly yellow-striped walls and wooden chairs with little cushions. Quiet music sung out from a radio on the counter. Various paintings of woods and trees and cottages were dotted around the cafe, giving it a cozy, homely feel. Clary stepped towards the counter, still admiring the paintings when she was interupted. "Hi, welcome to Dorothea's." A bored looking woman in her late 50's or 60's materalised in front of Clary, holding a cigerette in her hand. She wore a turban on her head, with at least 5 scarves wrapped around her neck, even though it was at least 80 degrees outside. Along her arms were bracelets of all different colours and patterns.

"Hi, I'm here for the job? I'm Clary, Clary Fra-" The old woman cut her off.

"Yeah I know who you are. I saw you coming. Got a sixth sense, I have." She tapped the side of her crooked nose.

Clary doubted that, but decided to humour her. "Cool. So.. When can I get started?"

The old woman-Clary found out her name was Dorothea, the owner of Dorothea's- (The old woman apparently didn't have much of an imagination) led her to behind the counter, issuing her with a uniform, which was just an apron and a name badge. After placing a cup of tea in front of her, she disappeared in the back room. No more instructions on how to run this place while she was there doing God knows what. Clary let out a deep breath and smiled as the first customer appeared.

A few hours later of serving tea, coffee and cakes, Clary was exhausted and was relieved to finally recieve her paycheck. Dorothea wanted to pay her daily, in case she ever forgot to, which Clary didn't mind. As long as she got the money.

"Here you go. Don't spend it all on candy now, you hear?"

Clary was about to laugh, but stopped when she realised the woman was being serious. The smile dropped from her face.

"Um, yeah. I won't." Her instincts were telling her to get the hell out, now before this woman's insanity got contagious.

When she turned her back, Clary all but sprinted to the door, letting it slam shut as she ran off-

Right into somebody. A very tall, hard somebody, who's coffee made contact with Clary's shirt, soaking it all the way through. Perfect. Clary muttered, looking down at herself.

"Oh god, I'm sorry." The owner of the voice did not seem the least bit sorry.

Clary looked up, ready to throttle whoever had the misfortune of running into her today, and almost melted. Tawny-coloured eyes, sharp cheekbones, beautiful golden hair.. Like an angel.

An angel who now had a raised eyebrow, and was staring back, mockingly.

Clary shook her head and attempted to bring herself back into reality.

The stranger chuckled. "I'm sorry. Do you want my jacket?" He was trying to conceal his smile with his hand, but Clary saw through it. When she didn't respond, he started shrugging off his jacket, which was black, and leather.

"It's fine. I'm going home to change anyway." A lie. She was planning to head straight to the Juilliard office to hand in her medical form.

"No, I insist. Can't have you walking around like that, now would we?" He wasn't even trying to hide his grin now, openly mocking her.

She looked down at herself. Yeah he was right. Her white t-shirt was stained with the coffee, showing her bright green bra underneath. Why, oh why did she choose green of all colours to wear today? She looked up at the stranger, to find him starting, unshamed, at her chest. Clary gaped at his unbashfulness, and considered whacking him up the head with her purse, when his eyes flicked up to hers again. He had his jacket in his hands, and before she could react he had placed the jacket around her slender shoulders, enveloping her in his scent of leather and limes. And sunshine. If sunshine had a smell, it would be this.

She smiled shyly. "Thanks, I guess." Slipping her arms through the sleeves,Clary could already see that this jacket was WAY to big on her. The arms went at least 4 inches past her hands, and the hem.. The thing was like a dress on her. But at least, when zipped up, it would cover up the shirt. Which was starting to feel sticky from the sugar that was probably in the coffee.

She stood there awkwardly, dwarfed in a stranger's jacket.

"I'm Jace." He stuck out a hand. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what it meant, before she mentally smacked herself.

"I'm Clary." She took his hand, giving it a shake. She tried to release it from his hold, but he held onto it for a second longer than nesscary, giving her a smirk. Oh right. He was one of those. Good-looking guys who were more than aware of it, and used it to their advantages.

"Yeah.. So I have to go. But thanks for the jacket, and I'll try to get it back to you." She smiled politely.

"No worries. Keep it, it looks good on you." He winked, before walking off, leaving Clary gaping after him. God, what an arrogant jerk. People stared at her, and she realised she had said it aloud. She smiled sheepishly, before hurridly walking in the direction of Juilliard, thoughts of that narcissist in her mind.

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><p>Right, so chapter 2! It took a while, cos I kept getting ideas for other fanfics while writing this. I dont think it makes a lot of sense to me, its kinda just a filler, the next chapter is when Clary FINALLY enters Juilliard :D<p>

*I have no idea what Simon's cat is called, and i dont know which chapter of the book its in. Yes, I've tried googling. No results. If anyone knows, please let me know in the reviews and I'll add it in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

His thumb swiped over the name tag, clearing it of the droplets of rain dripping from the crack in the ceiling above. The word Dorothea's was printed above the name on the badge in red lettering. Clary. Such a unique nickname, he had only come across it once before. "Short for Clarissa." She had said, sticking her chin up in the air.

The little girl with the fiery hair and green eyes.. He smiled, widely.

"It's been a while." He whispered to the darkness.

Clary could feel the heavy artificial air from the ventilation unit above pushing down on her as she stepped through the open doors of Juilliard, cooling off the pre-Summer heat from her body.

Today was the day of the Gathering, which she was informed was vital to attend. It wasn't even a very formal event, since almost everyone was dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts. Clary could spot a small group in the corner strumming their fingers on what looked like ukuleles and acoustic guitars. There was a couple by the door, singing softly to each other with a goofy grin on the face of the girl as she listened to the boy. Everyone seemed so familiar with the place and the people. A sense of forlorn washed over her, thinking about how alone she will be while attending Juilliard.

_It's just nerves._ Simon had told her earlier, when she was walking with him to the subway. _You'll fit right in, with all the drama geeks and musical nerds._

_So will you_. Clary had retorted.

She breathed in, held it, and let it go before heading towards what looked like a desk, but upon closer inspection she noticed it was a plank of wood on top of two flute cases. _Wow,_ she thought. _Juilliard can't even afford to buy a table?_

There was a guy sitting at the table, feet propped up against a guitar case, fiddling with something in his hands. Clary stood there, not sure whether she should do something to get his attention. She didn't need to, though as he finally stopped playing with whatever was in his hands-which turned out to be an origami crane- and his eyes flicked up to hers. Black eyes, standing out against his pallor skin.

"May I help you?" He asked, rather rudely. Clary had a feeling the question was rhetorical, but she answered it anyway.

Clary swallowed. "Can you tell me where the..." She checked her hand, where she had written down the name of the drama theatre. "McClelland drama theatre is?"

The guy raised an eyebrow, something which Clary envied him for.

What was wrong? Hadn't she pronounced it right?

"You're early. Take a seat; we're all going there in a second anyways."

Clary frowned, looking at her watch. 10:13am. Didn't the letter state that the Gathering began at 10:00am? She nodded anyway, and was about to turn away when there was a thud, and a different voice called out to her. "Hey. Excuse me, what's your name?"

She turned around. In the boy's place was a guy with short black hair, and striking blue eyes. He was wearing a brown t-shirt, with dark jeans. On the floor was the other guy, rubbing his head and glaring at the boy in front of him.

"Clary. Fray. Or Clarissa. I mean, I might be listed as Clarissa, but I go by Clary." She stopped, embarrassed by her rambling, which sometimes happened when she was around a hot guy.

The boy smiled. "I'm Alec. It's nice to meet you Clary. This is Sebastian, please excuse his manners. He was raised by a pack of wolves." He said it so casually, that Clary almost believed him.

Clary returned his smile. Already she was feeling less tense and less agitated. This... Alec seemed nice. Kind and friendly. And good-looking. Definitely.

The boy on the floor-Sebastian- was rather nice looking, with his dark hair and eyes; she could see that he must attract a lot of girls with his apparent indifference to what happens in the world, as well as his good looks. But he contrasted Alec's personality, as well as their looks. Alec had beautiful bright blue eyes and a striking jaw line. But there was something about him that was a little strange... She dismissed it; he seemed like a nice guy. Why make him out to be the opposite?

He was currently patiently searching down a list of names on a sheet, trying to spot hers. His eyebrows furrowed together and as he looked up, his hand went up to smooth his hair back, an unconscious habit, it seemed.

"Your name's Clary? Fray?"

She nodded.

"It's not on here..."

Clary frowned, looking down at the sheet in the boy's hand. Suddenly, it was ripped out of his hands. "That's because you have the wrong sheet." Sebastian hissed.

They exchanged a quick look and Alec snatched back the sheet, blood flooding into his cheeks as his eyes skimmed the page.

He quickly stuck it under a stack of application forms before Clary could take a look at what was on it. He rummaged around the mess of papers on the table before pulling one out.

"Ah, here we are. Fray, Clarissa." He looked up, apparently waiting for confirmation.

She nodded, quickly. "Yeah, that's me."

He ticked her name off the list, before handing her a booklet and a map.

"Welcome to Juilliard, Miss Fray."

~o/~

Clary sat at the back of the theatre, isolating herself from everyone else. She wasn't in the mood for making friends, and besides, no one seemed to even notice her, let alone attempt to talk to her. They were all busy chattering away, talking amongst themselves about things Clary didn't understand. She was just here for the special Fine Art course they were teaching here. She had no talent in music, and didn't understand what they meant when they talked about what chords they couldn't play, what notes they found hard to reach, what kind of instruments they wanted to purchase from some guy named Magnus. They were all obvious majorly talented in music, and Clary could spot a girl in the corner, playing the piano on her iPad. These guys are devoted. She thought.

The lights dimmed, and a man stepped onto the small stage which occupied half of the room.

The microphone feedback crackled in Clary's ears as he tapped it before speaking.

"Greetings students. My name is Hodge Starkweather, and as most of you are already aware, I am the headmaster of The Juilliard School of Performing Arts. I hope you are all well rested and healthy after the holidays, and welcome back to the students who are attending again after last semester. I have a few notices before I let the performances begin. Firstly, I would like to inform all the pupils attending the MADP Activities class that practise is cancelled today due to renovations in the gymnasium."

A few disappointed faces were on the faces of the group in front of Clary. What were the MADP Activities? They were not mentioned on the letters, or in the booklet.

He went through a list of rules, reminding the new students of how to act in the school, what his standards were for them, what rooms they were forbidden to enter, dress code... It was all very strict and scripted, the staff standing on one side of the room, not moving and listening intently, like the now completely quietened students. Even the headmaster, looking like he worked on clockwork, with his sharp words cutting through the once relaxed atmosphere in a clear, cold voice, like a military official would with an army of soldiers.

"Now, let the performances begin." Sighs came from all around the room, like a class of kindergarten kids would do when freed from school.

Clary looked down at the booklet in her hand. Even the leaflets reflected the headmaster's apparent OCD, with the blue school logo printed at the front which stood out sharply against the black and white writing. A couple of colour photos of a dancing troop and one of a man playing a piano were the only pictures in the entire 17-page booklet. Listed on page 6 were all the performances being put on tonight, including a piano piece from a Mr J. Wayland, and a flute performance from a Miss M. Roberts. Interesting. There was also no mention of the art program on this leaflet, same with the others Clary had browsed through while waiting for the performances. Juilliard weren't very organised, it seemed, despite the apparent neatness of the school and the over-controlling atmosphere which radiated from the staff, mainly Mr Starkweather. She flipped to the back, where there was a list of 'Notable Alumni', which were names of famous celebrities who had attended this school in the past. None of the names rang a bell, however.

She placed the booklet on the empty seat in front of her and attempted to watch the performances, and soon became memorised with the elegant turns and movements, the beautiful faces of all the performers. The legs of the dancers seemed inhumanely flexible as she watched a girl bend and lift her right leg and stretch it over her head, her foot landing on the floor in front of her as she rolled forward, gracefully landing on the floor in a ball. She was playing the part of the hedgehog being rolled around by the Red Queen in a game of croquet. The performance was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The Red Queen, who was moving extravagantly around in her fancy red leotard, had her face in a scowl and seemed to be angry, prancing over to the 'ball'. The scene changed. There, a man, whose strong arms lifted a girl effortless in the air, spinning himself around and around and around-

There was a loud thud and a sickening _crack_ as the man tripped over a dancer's outstretched leg. The girl had fallen from his arms and had landed in front of him, and judging by the fact that she was clutching her right calf, it seemed that the impact of the fall had affected her leg the worst.

A painful howl came from the girl, who was holding her unnaturally bent leg with her beautifully made-up face twisted in agony. A group of people rushed onto the stage, lifting her off immediately and carrying her through the doors. Her screams became quieter. Clary's eye shifted back to the stage, and was surprised to find the performance still going on. The man seemed unharmed, and the dancer who had the outstretched leg had replaced the girl with the broken leg. They were dancing together.

"If someone gets in your way, step on them." A voice came from behind Clary.

She whirled around. There was a girl, with brown hair and olive skin, about Clary's age, perched on a chair behind her.

The girl smiled at Clary's confused expression. "It's a quote, from a film. It's basically the motto all the Juilliard dancers live by. They would do anything to steal the spotlight away from someone, friend or foe. Because if you're the only one left standing, their sure to hire you, right?"

"See that guy, over there? With the freaky beret?" She pointed to the other side of the theatre.

Clary turned, and spotted a man at the back, with a blue sparkly beret on his head. She nodded to the girl.

"That's Magnus Bane. He's a graduate from Juilliard himself. He was a straight-A student, had the best grades Juilliard has ever seen. Former musical prodigy, art director, dance choreographer, _the _Magnus Bane. He has it all." She ticked the words off on her fingers as she went. She stopped, waiting for Clary to speak, but she didn't know what the girl was trying to say.

"Did I mention he's a talent scout too?" The girl said.

Clary's eyes widened. Wow, what a big shot. No wonder the dancers were literally tripping over themselves to make him notice them.

"I'm Maia, by the way." She had her hand out.

Clary took it, shaking it. "Clary."

Maia nodded. "Yeah, I know. Simon's friend, right?"

Clary nodded. "How do you-"

Maia interrupted her. "Simon and I go waay back. Like, prehistoric times. He knew I studied at Juilliard and asked me to keep an eye on you while you were here."

Clary smiled. She was both relieved and a little annoyed. Relieved, because now at least she had someone to talk to, maybe even a friend. Annoyed, because she didn't want people to think that she wasn't capable of making friends herself, or that she needed someone to 'keep an eye on her.' Which meant that she would be spied on the whole time at Juilliard.

The ballet performance had ended by now, and Hodge Starkweather climbed onto the stage again. "Please, give a round of applause for the ballet group, who we all know have practised very hard for tonight's performance." Clary and Maia clapped their hands along with the rest of the audience. There were even a few whooping and cheers coming from the front row.

When the noise died down enough, he spoke again. "And now we have a performance by Jace Wayland, who will be playing_ Rhapsody on a Theme_ by _Paganini_."

There was faint applause as the headmaster exited the stage, and everyone waited for this Jace Wayland to appear. No one did, however, and murmurs started coming from the students. Magnus Bane had his eyebrows raised, and shook his head as he checked his watch. It almost seemed like he had been waiting for Mr Wayland's performance, and now that it was not going to happen, he seemed in hurry to get away. Not that Clary blamed him. She felt the same.

There was whispering among the staff too, some shaking their heads, others tutting. Others remained impassive, as if they expected this to happen. After a moment, the hushed whispers became louder, and the headmaster stepped back onto the stage, quieting the students down. "There seems to be a problem backstage, and I'm sorry to inform you that Mr Wayland will not be performing tonight." He was obviously lying, as no one had moved an inch since he last spoke, so how could they have gone backstage? "So please welcome Maia Roberts instead, who will be performing _Dance of the Blessed Spirits_, composed by _C. Gluck_ on the flute."

There was applause, but this time, hesitant and scattered.

Maia stood up. "That's me." She leapt down the steps, and walked to the stage. She didn't seem nervous at all. In fact, she strode towards the microphone with confidence and ease, as if she was only about to play in front of a handful of people, and not all the residents of Juilliard, it's staff and '_the_' Magnus Bane.

Someone tried to hand her a flute, but she brushed it away. Instead, she walked towards the piano and pulled a violin and a bow out from behind it. Clary frowned. Wasn't she supposed to play the flute? The look on the headmaster's face showed that he was surprised by this too, and was definitely not expecting it.

Maia walked towards the microphone and propped the violin under her chin. She positioned her fingers on the bow and placed it gently on the strings, before beginning the first stroke which started the song.

The music flooded the whole theatre with the help of the microphone, and as it flowed through Clary's ears, her eyes stayed on Maia. The notes coming from her violin were so haunting, but so beautiful. She could feel the tradegy of the composer's emotions being played out by Maia, could sense the sadness seeping through that little instrument, which seemed to be weeping, the way the notes flowed out of it with such ease. A tear escaped from her eyes, but she didn't wipe it away. She couldn't look away from Maia, and it was clear everyone else here felt the same.

The final notes were played out, the bow slowly being dragged across the final string. As it ended, there was silence. Maia smiled, and placed the violin back behind the piano. Even as she started bounding back up the steps, there was no sound. Suddenly, the entire theatre broke into applause, and Clary could hear sniffling coming from all around her, some people drawing out tissues and dabbing their cheeks. She looked towards Magnus Bane, and saw even he had a handkerchief out.

There was something about the way that girl played, that could bring a whole room to tears. She was certainly talented; there was no doubt about that.

~o/~

After the gathering had ended, the students were shown to their dorms. The Tour had been cancelled, since most of the rooms were currently been renovated, and it was pouring with rain outside, which eliminated the use of the practise fields for demonstrations. Besides, all the equipment had been locked away, and someone had lost the key.

This school was seriously disorganised. Clary thought. I mean, couldn't they have at least checked the weather forecast before arranging this event? And why didn't anyone have a spare key to the shed which held all the school's equipment?

They were all placed in their dorms until the rain stopped, which gave them a chance to 'socialise' as they had put it in the letters. Maia had been assigned a different room to Clary, so they were not going to be roommates, but Maia promised to meet up with Clary for a coffee after they were allowed out.

The tree branches outside her dorm had been scraping against the windows behind Clary for a while now, the furious wind hurling against the walls of the school. The sound of the rain bouncing off the windows were like pellets, clattering down the roof and sliding down the grimy windows, giving Clary occasional glimpses of a skyline in the distance.

Clary was sat on the window seat, thinking over the day's events. Juilliard was so strange, in the way that it seemed to be presented as so prestigious and neat and organised, but seeing it like this.. with the strange incident with the girl who had broken her leg, that piano guy not showing up, and earlier, when that guy- Sebastian- had been so rude to her, and when he and Alec had exchanged looks- it was almost like they were keeping a secret. But what would a school have to hide? An ogre in the girl's bathrooms? A weeping ghost in the toilets?

Sighing, Clary rubbed at her drawing with the eraser of her pencil, scrubbing out the disfigured tree that so reminded her of that ballet girl's twisted leg.

She hadn't realised she had been rubbing so vigorously until it snapped off the pencil, rolling onto the floor. Groaning with frustration, she threw her sketchbook to the ground.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, gazing outside. Her room was facing the practise fields, where the dance troupes were allowed space to practise. There were at least 20 in a group, Maia had said, and the largest rooms-which could hold 2,000 people- were forbidden to practise in as they were reserved for audiences and performances only, which was a dumb rule, Maia had said. She danced, in a group of 12 students as well, and they needed a lot of space, since their routines mainly consisted of jumps, back flips, front flips and other dangerous-sounding moves.

Clary had also learned that Maia had earned the nickname of Little Wolf, since "_One time, this boy picked a fight with her, and she ended up clawing half his face off. He's scarred now. Like, permanently_." A girl had casually informed her. "_And, she hates cats. So she would probably kill whoever called her a cat._" Clary thought of Yossarian, and how much Maia would hate him, and smiled. At least she wasn't the only one who was not fond of the creatures.

A shudder ran through her as she thought back to the girl's words. Best stick to Maia's good side.

Movement in the corner of her eye broke her out of her thoughts. A boy in the distance, on top of the equipment shed. How had he gotten there? There were fences separating the houses on the street from Juilliard. And they were at least twenty feet high. Clary watched as the boy leapt off the shed and rolled to his feet on the ground. Wow. He must practise parkour. Her eyes followed him as he ran, sticking to the fence, over to the dorm. Clary sat back down. He must have gone through a door. Someone's boyfriend sneaking in to meet them, perhaps. Picking up her sketchbook, she dusted the dirt off it. Another thing, the rooms were filthy with dirt and soot from the small fireplace in the corner. Clary was about to place the sketchbook on the table by her bed when there was a sharp rap on the window. She froze, was that a knock on her window? _No you idiot._ Her consciousness told her. _You're on the fifth floor. Who the hell would scale the building just to play knock down ginger on you?_

It's just a branch. A heavy... branch...

There was another tap, this time louder. She turned, slowly. And nearly screamed. The boy, with the golden hair and eyes, was outside her window, gripping the tree above for balance. He waved, and mouthed a "Hi"

The book landed with a thud at Clary's feet.

* * *

><p>Whoa. So this is a long chapter. 7 pages on word. O_O but I'm in a writy mood, so you're all in luck! :D (LOL NOT REALLY, I know cos its crap that you guisee will probably fall asleep while in the middle. Hopefully you've reached the middle before falling asleep anyway.)<p>

So yah. I was watching this ballet performance on Alice in Wonderland and I really liked it so I tried to describe some of the performances in this... and sorry about the seriously bad description of Maia's violin playing. I used to play violin a few years ago and thought it would be easy to describe. But its not. It's like learning ballet for a year when I was 3 doesn't help me describe ballet (which was seriously bad logic on my part. I don't remember being 3 years old and ballet'ing, except that my teacher didn't like me) ANYWAY, I TRIED SO HARD to capture the emotions of her playing, cos the actual song (It's on YouTube, check it out) made me cry. D': so listen to the songs. And cry, bitches. 3


	4. Chapter 4

My sincere apologies for the late update. This chapter was supposed to be up a while ago but I had exams to study for, and writer's block. I don't really know what I'm talking about in this chapter but hopefully it's better than nothing eh ^-^

Right now, I'm procastinating studying since that's ALL I've been doing recently.. which gave me a chance to finish this chapter up and post it but the next chapter probably wont be up til a couple of weeks later, perhaps next week, perhaps when summer starts. I'll try but sorry in case you don't hear from me until next year xD

Chapter 4

Clary's eyes widened as she took in the image of the boy with the golden eyes outside her window. It was at least a couple of minutes before she could even react. But when she did, she hurried to the rust-ridden window and- with some diffilculty –managed to slide it open, letting in blasts of cold air and rain. She leant out of the window and shouted over the roaring wind.

"What are you doing!" Jack? John? What was his name again?

The boy let one hand off the branch and gestured for her to move out of the way. She was certain he was going to fall, that branch didn't look too sturdy and he must weigh a lot, judging by those arm muscles that were now flexing as he prepared to-

Prepared to jump the 2 yard distance from his tree to her window, and risk falling 5 storeys down to his certain death. Clary's lips were forming a scream when he sprung away from the branch and with a single leap landed neatly on her windowsill, grinning triumphingly (and smugly) down at her. She stared up at him- how did he do that? -and before he could do anything more stupid and reckless, grabbed his left ankle, dragging him inside.

He landed with a grunt on his back, as Clary slammed the window shut, blocking out the continous howl of the wind outside. She laid a hand over her heart. A second passed before it started beating regulary again.

She turned to face the boy, who was now on his feet and was rubbing the back of his head.

"Ouch. I know I'm so godlike and all, but really, you only had to ask if you wanted me in your bedroom." He drawled, smirking at her when she didn't respond.

She was speechless. To think that a second ago, this boy was about to fall 5 storeys down to his death, and now he was casually making remarks and innuendos at her? She didn't know what to say, so blurted out:

"What the hell are you doing in my room!"

His grin faded, and it was replaced by a sheepish half-smile. "Uh, you left.. this the other day." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

Clary frowned. She didn't remember even losing it.. it WAS in her purse, like always. She snatched it out of his hand and slid it open.

"There were a couple of calls and messages.. but I didn't answer or read any of them." He added hastily. 8 missed calls and 17 messages. Woah. Most were from her mom and Luke, wondering where the hell she was and if she was doing okay. Well, that was what her mother's texts were about. Luke's were just questions about where the iron was, and whether she liked the title of a new novel that had just arrived in his bookstore. Some were from Simon, checking up on her and asking what Juilliard was like so far. A couple from her phone company.. She was about to call her mother, to let her know she was doing fine, and not to worry, when she remembered about the presence of the boy in her room.

Her head snapped up, and their eyes met. He had been watching her the whole time, she realised. His stare was so intense that she started to feel self-concious, wondering if there was leftover food on her face or something.

After a minute of silence and awkward feet shuffling, Clary finally decided to speak up.

"Um, so thanks for returning this," she held up her phone. What else was she supposed to say? Then she remembered about his jacket. Yeah, that's why he's still here, waiting for your mentally slow brain to catch up. "Oh, I forgot your jacket. I must have left it at Simon's. I'm so sorry, I'll get it back to you as soon as-" She stopped as she realised she was babbling, yet again. She took a breath and started again. "I'm really sorry. I don't have it with me now, but if you come by tomorrow.."

He shrugged, indifferent. "It's fine. You can keep it, it has a hole in it anyway." Was there? Clary couldn't remember, and she didn't feel comfortable with keeping a stranger's jacket. She decided that the next time she encountered him, she would return it then.

Another awkward moment passed, the intensity of his gaze burning through her as she pretended to look at the very interesting raindrop on the toe of his combat boot. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"So was there another reason you decided to scale up a 7 storey building?" She didn't mean to snap, but he was making her irritated(and not to mention nervous) with those stares of his.

He just laughed. "You're only on the fifth floor." ONLY the fifth floor? What was this guy used to climbing? Big Ben? The Empire State Building? "And, I study here. I was just on my way to my dorm."

He's studying here? She thought. Oh great. Wait what? "The boys dorms are on the other side of the practise field. And have you ever heard of using a door like normal people?"

"But, I thought girls liked the whole knights in shining armour climbing up towers and rescuing the damsels in distresses, and then whisking them away to some castle in the middle of no where to live happily ever after."

"Yeah, except that in our case, the 'knight in shining armour' is dressed not so shiny-knight, the tower is a dull girls dormitory and the damsel in distress, as you call it, is actually very content where she is, and I'm not in any danger of getting eaten by dragons nor do I need escaping from the clutches of an evil witch."

A smile appeared on his lips. "So.. if I offered to buy you coffee, you would say no?"

Clary hesitated. She had to meet Maia for coffee in an hour, so she wouldn't be able to accept his offer anyway, but it seemed harsh to turn him away like this..

Clary looked up. He was gazing out the window, and a faint smile was on his lips. He looked strangely happy. It would be like turning down a puppy for food. But she had to say no. Maia asked first, after all.

And it wasn't as if she didn't like him, it was just that he didn't seem completely.. sane. And the fact that his ego needed to be knocked down a notch didn't help the situation either.

She told him: "Actually I already have plans. Thanks for the offer though." She felt a twinge of guilt at the disappointment on his face. But it quickly disappeared, replaced by a lax expression.

"Sure whatever. I guess I'll see you around then." He looked like he was about to leave, but then paused. "Hey, what classes are you taking?"

Clary paused. "Just the Art program. I'm not very musical." She felt stupid as she said it, since Juilliard was mostly a school for musical prodigies and aspiring actors and dancers. She was only here to draw.

He frowned. "You should think about signing up for the singing courses. I hear Magnus Bane is teaching this year."

Clary felt like rolling her eyes. It seemed like everyone in Juilliard held some kind of respect for Magnus Bane.

"I can't sing to save my life." She lied. Truth was, Clary could sing, but hadn't for years, and she wasn't planning to start again. Not even for Magnus Bane.

A look of confusion passed over the boy's features. "Of course you can. Don't be so modest."

"No, really I can't." How would he know? It wasn't as if he would know of her singing abilities. Was he hoping to humiliate her in front of Magnus Bane by urging her to sign up? She remembered Maia's words. Did he think of her as a threat?

"Even if I could, I still have no interest in it." She added, hoping to get off this subject.

He shook his head. "Clary, it'll be better than staying in this," he paused. "room while the other classes are going on. I'm signing up too."

The sound of her name coming out of his mouth sounded oddly familiar. As if he had said it many times before. It made her feel guilty that she had forgotten his name and he had remembered hers.

"Nope. Sorry, but I hope Magnus Bane is as good as people say he is."

He sighed. "He is." He paused, looking at his watch. "I've gotta run. See you around." He strode out, closing the door behind him.

Clary slumped down onto her bed. Dust flew up around her. Eugh, what's wrong with this place? She thought. It was as if no one had lived there for years. But Juilliard hardly ever had empty rooms, they were always filled up with students.

Clary picked up her discarded sketchbook and flipped through it. So far, she had only managed to draw a pigeon that had landed outside her window, the equipment sheds at the edge of the fields and a sketch of Alec's left eye that she had drawn from memory.

She picked up a pencil and looked around for something interesting enough to draw.

About 45 minutes later~

Clary was standing outside of the girls domitories, waiting for Maia to show up. She could see the little coffee stand and the picnic benches that had their own gazebos a few yards away, and they were quickly filling up. The rain had ceased and now there were awkward rays of sunshine that tried to dry up the damp floors and building, but only managed to produce a wet-dog smell.

Finally, Clary spotted Maia's brown braids through a small crowd of people. She waved, and Clary waved back.

"Hey! I'm sorry I was late. Whoever thought it was a great idea to put marble tiles as a pathway to the cafeteria should be shot. I slipped about a thousand times."

Clary laughed. She had seen it herself. It was meant to be a way to re-style and modernize the Juilliard buildings. So far, all it managed to do was create a safety hazard for the students. And the designs weren't attractive, either. Clary had spotted oddly painted drama studios and music rooms on her way here, splashes of dark blues with reds and pinks with crimson.

Only the lunching area had been left untouched, the stark grey and brown benches and peeling paint contrasting against the bright cheerful colours of the drama theater next door.

The line to the coffee stand wasn't long, and they managed to purchase a coffee each without slipping up.

Maia frowned, looking out at the filled picnic benches. It seemed even Juilliard had their cliques- the exceptionally brillant drama enthuasts, the small cluster of ballet dancers and the dance troupes with the musicians. There was no room for an Art freak anywhere here. Clary thought.

Maia brightened up and turned to Clary.

"I know a place. Come on."

Clary let herself be dragged past the lunch-eaters and into the drama theater. But they didn't stay, just went through a door which lead to a narrow hallway, which was filled with equipment, varying from broken drum sticks and discarded music sheets. There was a collection of costumes too, frocks and gowns and tuxes and even a couple of parasols and petticoats.

They didn't stop here either. Maia kept pulling her along, somehow managing to keep a hold of her coffee in one hand while dragging Clary along with the other, and opening doors with her shoulder. They climbed a stairwell and when they reached the landing, Clary was sad to see that she had spilt half of her coffee on the way up here.

At the top of the stairwell, it was what appeared to be an attic. A very well kept attic, with couches and armchairs dotted around the room, a coffee table and even a kitchen island had found itself up here. There were small fairy lights hanging from the rafters above them , and a single wide skylight was situated right in the middle, where a lightbulb would usually hang.

Clary had been so busy admiring the place that she didn't notice Maia at the 'kitchen.'

"Want more coffee?" She held up a coffee pot.

Clary's jaw almost dropped. "You had homemade coffee up here, and yet you chose to buy crappy artificial ones in a plastic cup?"

Maia shrugged. "Yup. And I happen to like the artificial ones, thank you very much. Besides, it's such a bother getting up here."

Clary continued to stare at the attic. It was so cosy and homely, and clean. It was as if this was a completely different world to the school downstairs.

"Did you do all this yourself?" Clary gestured at the fairy lights and the kitchen island.

"Nope. A couple of people helped. They're the only other people who know about it by the way, and we don't want to get caught, so keep sctum."

Clary frowned. "Why, is this against the rules or something?" The booklet had not stated that building an attic complete with coffee makers and fairy lights were against the school regulations.  
>Maia smiled. "Well, there's nothing about it in the rule book, if that's what you mean. And the staff don't know about this attic. Someone forgot to draw it in on the school blueprints." Something about the mischeivious tilt of her mouth made Clary wonder if they really did 'forget'.<p>

~o/~

Clary and Maia had spent the rest of the afternoon up in the attic, or their 'den', as Maia liked to call it, and now were both feeling a little hungry, having no actual food in their makeshift kitchen other than a dried up apple and a packet of cigerettes, which were both sitting in the mini-fridge.

"Do you smoke?" Clary asked, shutting the fridge door.

"Nope. But some of the others do. So you'll get used to it."

Clary smiled, but it was forced. Images from leaflets warning of second-hand smoke lingered in her mind.

They were walking along the corridor in the backstage area, heading towards the picnic area when a muffled beeping sound cut through the silence. Frowning, she turned to Maia, about to ask her if she heard it to, but then realised it was coming from her.

Maia froze, and hurriedly lifted the hem of her jeans up, revealing a small black cuff around her ankle with a dot in the middle which was flashing red. She pushed down on a concealed button on the other side of the dot then straightened up and looked at Clary with a smile.

"Time for class. I'll see you tomorrow." And before Clary could form a response, she was already disappearing around the corner.

TA-DAH~! Sh*tty chapter for y'all ^-^

Next update will be after exams 3


	5. Author's Note

**-AUTHOR'S NOTE**

* * *

><p>Hey guyss... Yeah I know its been a while since I updated xD<p>

SO much happened last year, new friends, a guy, school, family, intense drama etc etc, so updating this story hasn't really been a priority of mine.. Sorry!

But I just started reading Clockwork Prince (i'm slow, since City of Lost Souls is out now too) and I really wanted to look back on this story :3

I've kinda lost most of my ideas for this story.. Looking back on the way I used to write made me kinda cringe, but because you guys actually read my story and look forward to when i finally update I think i owe it to all of you to work on this story until its finished

But right now, I don't have a lot of time to add in a new chapter. I had quarter of a page done like last year but I got a new computer and lost that file so I didn't bother rewriting it again..

But yeah, my final GCSE exams start in two days (ahhh) so I won't be able to really update until the 18th of June (which is my final exam day) but then I still have to study for my Chinese exam on the 30th of June so I'll probably work on a chapter sometime between the middle of June and the beginning of July, as I have a holiday from the 6th of July and then when i get back i have the Challenge (a really cool thing Year 11s do in the summer 8D) and then after that I'll update like every couple of days to make up for this half year of abandonment.. :D

Blahh, yeah so sorrryyy for making everyone angry xD I know what its like to wait so long for an update.. But I just think when I get exams over and done with I will be able to complete a chapter thats worth reading and wont have things like inaccurate MI facts or spelling mistakes, which will be better than a rushed chapter which will probably be confusing since I wouldn't have time to check my MI books for references.. :P

So yeah, this isn't a chapter sorry guys but I promise to update as SOON as my exams finish! It may be around the 18th of June cos I can't bear to keep everyone unhappy for the lack of updates _

So see you then! I promise it will be worth it ;D

**What might be in the next chapter:**  
>Maia's secret revealed<br>More Jace+Clary action  
>Introduction of new characters<br>More Alec, Sebastian and Isabelle appearances


	6. Clary's Coffee

Hey guys! I'm back! I deeply apologise for the sudden hiatus, and for dragging out the time for the next chapter, the good news is that my exams are finished, I have no work to do and that means UPDATES! I'll be releasing the next chapter soon after this one is posted as a peace offering.. I'm really grateful to the people who have been reading and following this fanfiction, I hope you'll stick with me until this is finished!

So, without further ado, here is Chapter 5..

* * *

><p>A week later~<p>

Night was descending when Clary finally reached the back entrance of Casa di Dorothea. She remembered asking the manageress why the café was named as such, since Dorothea was Greek.

She had replied: "Who's going to know I'm Greek? Besides, "casa di" has much more swing to it, no?"

Clary hadn't been sure, but she wasn't one to argue with her employer on her second day at work. She was smarter than that.

The air filled Clary's nostrils immediately with the smell of fresh coffee and maple syrup pancakes as she pushed past the curtain of beads into the café. She was meant to be covering for Aline, one of the other waitresses, who decided that celebrating her 18th birthday at Pandemonium was more important than working towards paying for her college fund, and had told Clary to say that she was "at home with the flu" not realising how bad of a liar Clary actually was.

As she donned the black apron which the waitresses were required to wear, Clary was immediately bombarded with clicks from table number 9, whos occupants were regulars at the café, and always ordered the same things, and were not always polite about it.

"Waitress? Hi, could we get two-"

"Two coffees, two slices of apple pie and a serving of blueberry pancakes to share?" Clary smiled as they nodded. "I'll be back in 5 minutes with your order" she said as she whisked the menus away. She wasn't sure there was a point in giving them menus any-more, they never even opened them and were almost always too busy staring passionately into each others' eyes, but Dorothea had insisted.

"They are paying customers who expect the best of this establishment, of course we must give them menus!"

Clary was busy cutting the pie when the café's bell rang.

As if automatically, she turned and recited "Hi, welcome to Casa di Dorothea, how may I-"

She froze as her eyes met the tawny gold of Jace Wayland's.

"I believe the saying is "how may I help you" He smiled. "'How may I' seems a tad philosophical for this time of the evening. How may I, how may, how." He leant his elbow on the counter. "A coffee would be good though, all this thinking has made me thirsty." (LOL INNUENDO)

Clary was speechless. She hadn't seen him all week, which was saying something, especially since he had forced her to enrol in the dreaded singing class with Magnus Bane, but hadn't bothered to show up himself. Even though she didn't like to admit it, having something attractive to look at while attending that soulless class would have made her mornings better.

Attempting to keep professional, and remove any signs on her face that told him she was glad to see him, she said: "I'll be with you in one minute sir, I just have to serve the lady and gentleman first."

She grabbed the two coffees and attempted to balance the pancakes and pie on her arms, like she had seen Aline do, but gave up and decided it would be more sensible to make two trips to and from the counter. However, Jace had other ideas as he had been watching her, and took the pancakes and pie slices effortlessly from her hands and walked straight to table 9, placing them on the table and murmured something to the couple, and as he walked past Clary, who was following with the coffees, he drew admirable stares from the woman at the table, and giggles from the two high school girls in the back corner, who were attempting to hide their obvious glances with a copy of _Teen Vogue_ magazine each, to no avail, Clary thought, as she could hear them from the counter and were pretty sure Jace could too, but he was probably enjoying the attention from the smirk on his face. Clary set down the coffees on the table with a heavy_ clunk _and had to apologise profusely when, for the first time in her life, she got the attention of the couple at table number 9.

Now that the couple had been served their orders, Clary had no choice but to make Jace's coffee, and hoped that he would leave her alone after he had got it. How was she to remain professional when someone like Jace was standing opposite her, fiddling with the frayed edges of his wallet and just looking perfect in general, even in the dingy fluorescent light of the café.

As she was waiting for the coffee machine, she allowed herself to think more about Jace. She had been wondering a lot about him, especially in the time that he had been away, and found it strange that he chose to come here, out of all places on a Friday night when he could be out enjoying himself with the rest of the Juilliard students. The only explainable reason was her, since he knew she worked here from the little getting-to-know session on the enrolment day. But what was his interest in her? He had been getting a lot of attention from the female students of Juilliard, especially Kaelie, the popular gifted singer with the perfect pitch, who had developed a soft spot for Jace, and used to try immensely to get his attention, often with no results.

The coffee machine blinked and shook Clary out of her thoughts, and saw that Jace was watching her, quite intently, probably to make sure she didn't spill it. _I'm not that clumsy _Clary thought, as her hand shook and the coffee spilt slightly over the side. She heard Jace let out an audible sigh, and huffed as she reached for the sugar. He rose an eyebrow, and she asked: "Sugar?" "No thanks, I'm sweet enough." he smirked. Clary resisted the urge to roll her eyes _How many times have I heard that one before._

He did, however ask for a 'splash' of milk, to which Clary replied by filling the cup to the brim, and as she searched for a saucer to place it on, he spoke.

"Hey, when does your shift end?"

Clary was surprised. "10:30, why?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Taki's. I hear they have great BAT sandwiches."

This was a recurring joke at Juilliard, since the cafe had failed to capitalise 'bat' and often confused the customers as to whether they genuinely served bats in their sandwiches, or whether it was just a regular sandwich with bacon, avocado and tomatoes.

Clary was suspicious, but she was hungry. After leaving her singing class, she had left immediately for her 4 hour shift at the local art supply shop, and after that she had come straight here, ignoring her stomach's desire for food.

"Okay, sure. But meet me there, you're distracting all my customers."

As if he hadn't noticed, Jace turned around and immediately all the females in the café, including the elderly woman sitting on her own by the window, averted their stares to the table, their friends or anything that wasn't the attractive gentleman at the counter.

"But what about my coffee?" He asked, turning his attention back to Clary.

To this, she replied by unceremoniously dumping his coffee into a Styrofoam cup and attaching a plastic lid, she handed it to Jace with a smile. "That will be $3.80 please."

As he produced some notes from his wallet, he muttered "Ridiculous price for a coffee."

_A few minutes later~_

Jace's view.

The door of Casa di Dorothea shut behind Jace, and he let out a sigh, watching his breath puff out in the cold December air. Even the name of the café made him feel uneasy, combing Italian with Greek language was just unthinkable. But she chose to work here, and who was he to say anything about it. After all, it was Clarissa. _Clary_, he corrected himself.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and had no choice but to use the other to hold his coffee, and set off down the street towards Taki's Diner.

The night was getting darker earlier, an undesirable attribute of December, but Jace didn't mind it. He enjoyed being hidden, being left alone with his thoughts. Taking long walks in the dark wasn't unfamiliar to him, regular walks alone in the park by his old apartment was something he looked forward to after a day long of training.

One thing he disliked, however, was the inability to see exactly what was in front of him, with detail. The street in which Clary worked seemed neglected, several flickering streetlights dotted along the side of the street Jace was on, while the opposite side failed to have any working streetlights at all, aside from one which seemed to be clinging on, illuminating just a stray black cat.

Because of this, he failed to notice the dark figure of Kaelie as she walked in his direction, and, unfortunately, she did.

"Jace, what are you doing out here?" She asked, tucking a strand of bright blonde hair behind her ear. Something Jace had failed to remember was that she worked at Taki's, so for this encounter he had no one to blame but himself.

"Just visiting a friend" He replied, hoping to keep the conversation short and blunt.

She wasn't swayed easily, however.

"You don't have friends, remember? Why aren't you at the Institute?"

Jace sighed. Why did she have to make this uncomfortable? And besides, if someone saw them talking together like this, trouble would be inevitable.

"I'm going to head back soon. Don't worry about me." He said. It was difficult to be harsh towards her, after all that had happened, he couldn't help but see her as his younger sister.

Kaelie didn't speak for a while, and a few seconds passed while she just stared at him, almost curiously, until she nodded and lowered her head, walking past him.

"Kaelie, I'm sorry. For what happened, if it still counts." Jace said.

She stopped but didn't turn, and seemed to take it in, before walking off, taking what she hoped were proud strides, leaving Jace alone in the darkness.

It seemed to him that the forgotten were not always forgiven, or who seemed to forgiven, were never forgotten.

He turned his back to the wall and sank down, staring at the Styrofoam cup still in his hand. _Clary's coffee. I should drink it. _It took a few gulps before his taste buds registered the taste, and he grimaced, then smiled. _Clary's coffee._

_A few hours later. 10:__4__7pm._

After the last few customers left the café, Clary sighed and started pulling the chairs up onto the tables. Today's shift had lasted longer than she had expected, and she was exhausted, not to mention hungry.

As she said goodbye to Rebecca Lewis, who was also working at the café to pay for the art course, Clary swapped her apron for her purple coat and left the café, hearing the bell jingle as the door shut behind her. Her stomach growled as she thought of the food that awaited her at Taki's, and walked down the street.

Taki's Diner was a popular spot for the students at Juilliard, with its low prices and fast customer service, it was ideal. Clary came here a lot with Simon, and they would often meet up with Rebecca and Maia too.

Clary could feel her mouth drool as she opened the door to Taki's and was met with the familiar odours of bacon and fries. Spying Jace sitting alone by the window, she walked up and took the seat opposite him, setting her bag down reaching for the menu at the same time.

"Sorry I'm late, there were more customers than usual today"

Jace looked up, seemingly unaware of her presence until now. "Oh, it's fine. Your coffee was terrible by the way."

_Nice._ Clary thought. She knew her coffee-making skills weren't the best, but she could make a damn good stir fry. "Order something else next time then." She huffed.

Jace seemed deep in thought for a while, then smiled and looked back down at the menu.

After a moment of silence while they consulted the menus, a waiter came shortly along.

"Hello, are you ready to order?" He asked. The name _Meliorn _was printed on the coral coloured nametags of Taki's, and for a moment Clary wondered on the correct pronounciation of the name.

Jace was the first to reply. "One plate of sweet potato fries please." He said, folding up the menu and handing it to Meliorn.

Clary searched the menu for a few seconds more then decided. "A tuna melt with regular potato fries please."

Jace raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Clary retorted as Meliorn left the table. "I'm hungry."

Jace raised his hands in surrender. "I didn't say anything." He said, but Clary could see a hint of a smile.

Rain had started pouring, and they both stared outside, watching the occasional droplets that hit the side of the diner's windows. Neither tried for conversation, for they both found it comfortable even without speech.

Clary, however, soon found it unbearable and was grateful when Meliorn arrived with their food.

Jace watched, amused, as Clary tucked into her food. He himself wasn't too interested in his food, unlike Clary it seemed, he had had his dinner already, in a secluded restaurant by Juilliard, a place where the students avoided because of the high prices, but also because of the "weird vibes." For these reasons, Jace found it to be one of his favourite locations, being able to eat in peace without any disturbance other than the friendly owner who occasionally treated him to a beer accompanied by tales of his adventures. Which, as it turned out, were extremely interesting and had even gotten him in newspapers a couple of times. Not that many people realised when they entered the restaurant, which was seldom.

Clary found this intimacy with Jace rare, and saw it as an opportunity. "So where have you been all week? I didn't even see you in that singing class you made me sign up to."

Jace smirked. "I see you've been missing this face of mine?" He made a dramatic hand motion with his fry, and Clary resisted the urge to snort, but did it anyway. _So ladylike. _

"I was thinking more about how you'll get kicked out if you keep skipping classes."

Jace picked at his plate. "I just enrolled in a different program for a week. I'm back on Monday, usual classes." He tried to keep the information short but truthful. No use revealing more than he had to.

Clary was surprised. "What other program?" Clary had studied Juilliard's prospectus and list of available courses weeks prior to her enrolment, and hadn't seen anything that required a student to skip classes for a week.

"It was just a workshop to help us with our dance. New workouts and such, they're much more intense this time."

Clary hadn't noticed at first, but now she focused her attention on his body she noticed there were faint bruises along his arms, and she could see one partly hidden by the collar of his t-shirt, which was the darkest. What kind of workshop would make them come out with bruises all along their body? Clary frowned and felt sympathetic towards him, until he spoke.

"Checking out my body are you? I'll let you have a better look sometime." He winked, and Clary couldn't help but laugh while attempting to hide her blush. He was perhaps the most vulgar, outspoken person she had met, but he didn't fail in making her laugh.

After that, she let the subject slide, and they drifted on to a more mundane conversation, with Clary updating Jace on the singing classes he had missed, and him asking her more about how her term with Juilliard was going, and also inquiring about her new job.

They eventually left the diner an hour later, with Jace suggesting they buy something to drink.

"Why didn't you order anything at the diner?" Clary asked, as they turned the corner and headed to a nearby convenience store.

"I don't like tap water, and they charge well over five dollars for a soda." Jace replied, pushing open the doors and walking in.

They were met with a blast of cold air from the small air conditioning in the corner, and Clary followed Jace as he headed to the back, grabbing two Minute Maid juice boxes from the refrigerated section and walked to the counter.

Clary followed. "Unless you're planning on drinking both of them yourself, you don't need to get me one." She already had a coffee break while on her shift, and besides she wasn't feeling thirsty.

Jace didn't reply and proceeded to pay. Clary watched as the cashier attempted to flirt with Jace, but to no avail as he didn't even seem to notice her.

Outside, Jace handed Clary a carton and watched as she stared at it, confused.

"It's called a juice box. You drink it like this." He said, taking her carton and piercing it with the straw, then handing it back to her.

Clary narrowed her eyes, but accepted it anyway. "You don't need to patronise me. I know what this is, I used to drink it a lot when I was little."

Jace stood still, as if waiting for her to say more, but all she did was sip her carton.

With a sigh, Jace pierced his own carton and walked with her back to Juilliard, drinking his along the way.

* * *

><p>Aaand I'm ending the chapter here, more will be revealed soon, I hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing. Next chapter will be up shortly! I'm brainstorming ideas while I type this :)<p> 


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